


A Miracle from Cursed Ground

by brokencasbutt67



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottoming from the Top, Cock Warming, Fluff, Foot Fetish, Foot Massage, M/M, Massage, Post-Scene: Church in London 1941 (Good Omens), Praise Kink, Riding, Smut, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22071424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokencasbutt67/pseuds/brokencasbutt67
Summary: I tagged as foot fetish bc the smut comes from a foot massage - it's up to y'all if you see it as foot fetish.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 135





	A Miracle from Cursed Ground

Aziraphale looked over through the smoking remains of the church to the demon, limping away. The books are heavy in Aziraphale’s hands, but they’re not as heavy as the weight on his chest. It’s been there before, but Aziraphale never knows what it is. Now though, he has a suspicion that it’s love. It’s a grounding weight on his chest, his heart. It sobers him up from the drunkenness of being in the demon’s presence alone. 

“You comin’, angel?” Crowley called out, now stooda safe distance from the Church’s blessed ground, no longer is Crowley being burned alive from merely standing in place. Aziraphale nodded, quickly catching up to Crowley, who was limping towards the miraculously unharmed Bentley.    
“Are you injured, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked, while managing to walk alongside the demon.    
“I just walked through an entirely blessed building, Aziraphale, of course I’m in pain. You think I was just hopping around for the fun of it?” Crowley responded. Aziraphale felt himself saddened by the knowledge that once again, Crowley had become his saving grace, and this time he’d gotten injured in the process of saving Aziraphale.    
“Come back to the bookshop, I have some delightful bergamot and green tea scented lotion” Aziraphale offered. Crowley sighed.   
“Angel, that won’t fix this injury… nothing will” Crowley shrugged, while hobbling towards the pristine Bentley, surrounded by dust, bricks and the remains of the church.    
“It’ll help through, Crowley” Aziraphale pressed, while opening the passenger door to the Bentley. Crowley climbed in and watched as Aziraphale climbed into the passenger seat, still holding onto his books as though they are the most important thing in the world. 

The journey towards the bookshop was a short one. It remains one of the only buildings in the area intact and unscathed.    
“I have a delightful bottle of Malbec, Crowley. I wonder, would it be possible for you to come in for a glass or two?” Aziraphale offered, fiddling with the books on his lap. Crowley sighed and took his sunglasses off for the moment, rubbing at his eyes as he looked down.   
“Fine, one drink” He stated, though he knew one drink was a lie. 

It was not one drink, as expected. One glass turned into a number of bottles over the course of the night, Aziraphale stumbled and slurred as he moved around the bookshop. Occasionally, the topic of conversation would go back to Crowley’s feet, and the injury they now had.    
“Crowley, dear, please let me look after you” Aziraphale murmured, shifting to lean against Crowley on the sofa, pawing at the demon’s chest slightly. Crowley sighed.    
“Angel” Aziraphale pulled out some puppy dog eyes that Crowley hadn’t expected to sober him like they had. He reluctantly nodded, though part of him immediately regretted it. Aziraphale jumped up, hopping off to the bathroom. Crowley groaned and rested his head against the back of the sofa. After a moment, Aziraphale walked back into the room with a small bowl of steaming water. He had a towel hanging on his arm, and a bottle of lotion beneath his armpit.    
“Shoes off, dear” Aziraphale ordered, sounding incredibly sober for someone who’d had three bottles of wine, at least. Crowley groaned and attempted to reach down to untie his shoes. The sacred ground not only burnt his feet, it gave him a right workout that stretched his muscles more than he’d ever admit.    
“Oh, my dear, are you in pain?” Aziraphale asked, and dropped to his knees in front of Crowley, who nodded slightly. The angel’s position, kneeling between his legs, was putting entirely unholy images in the demon’s mind. Aziraphale gently lifted Crowley’s leg, noting the wince and pained hiss from the demon. The black shoes were unlaced and placed aside once they were eased off of the demon’s burnt feet, with a care that Aziraphale saves only for his books. Black socks followed, and they were placed inside of the black shoes. Crowley’s slim fitting black trousers were then rolled up to the middle of the demon’s calves. Crowley watched intently as Aziraphale eased the demon’s feet into the tub of warm, soapy water.    
  
“If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you” Aziraphale murmured, while beginning to massage the tanned skin.    
“John 13, huh? I remember that” Crowley murmured. Aziraphale smiled up to Crowley, before continuing to massage the demon’s burnt feet.    


A while passed, with Crowley relishing in the feeling of the angel massaging his feet. For once, Crowley feels as though someone is caring for him. A spasm of the muscle in his calf has Crowley seizing up, resting his head close to his knees.    
“Crowley?” Aziraphale asks, with concern filling his voice.   
“‘m fine angel” Crowley murmured, attempting to lift his chest up, though the pain in his calves made this difficult. Aziraphale smiles softly, sliding his hands up to Crowley’s knees. Sliding his hands back down, Aziraphale presses his thumbs into the demon’s aching muscles. An almost pornographic groan rumbles out from Crowley’s chest and into the room. Aziraphale perks up slightly.    
“Crowley, dear, why don’t you go take a warm bath, then, I will give you a massage?” Aziraphale offered. Crowley groaned at the thought, though he couldn’t stand up.    
“Oh, my dear, are you in pain? Let me help you” Aziraphale fussed around the demon, helping Crowley stand. Together, they made their way towards the bathroom, where Aziraphale miracled the tub filled with steaming, bubbly water. He helped Crowley strip and into the tub, before leaving to give the demon some privacy. 

While Crowley was bathing, Aziraphale set up the double bed with a fluffy towel covering it. A bottle of massage lotion was placed on the table beside the bed. Aziraphale listened out for the sound of Crowley easing out of the tub, and sure enough, that sound could be heard soon after. 

Crowley may not be one to be insecure about his body, more the opposite. However, in the presence of the angel, Crowley always feels like he’s lacking. Hurrying towards the bedroom, Crowley is attempting to preserve the miniscule amount of dignity that the hand towel gives. Crowley is never one to boast, however, right now, he could  _ really  _ do with a bigger towel. 

“Uh, angel, I have no clothes here” Crowley stated, walking into the bedroom.   
“Don’t worry dear. If you would be so kind as to lay down, I will give you a massage, it’s the least I can do” Aziraphale said. Crowley nodded and attempted to lay on his front, though eventually he just fell face first onto the bed. Aziraphale smiled and helped Crowley get comfortable on the bed. Aziraphale shifted slightly, kneeling on the bed. He reached over, plucking the bottle of massage lotion. He poured some onto the demon’s back first. Aziraphale noted the burns on Crowley’s back, from when his wings were blackened with fire during his fall. Aziraphale felt the knots beginning to loosen as Crowley relaxed. Aziraphale moved his hands lower down, covering Crowley’s thighs. He massaged the demon’s sore thighs, easing the ache. 

While Crowley lay on his front, he subtly rolled his hips against the towel, attempting to ease the ache from Aziraphale’s presence. The ache in Crowley’s calves has gone though, and he feels almost boneless now.    
“Turn over, dear” Aziraphale murmured.  _ Oh no. Crowley looks to the pillow below his face, realising that if he turns over, Aziraphale will see Crowley’s arousal.  _ _   
_ “Crowley, dear, is everything okay?” Aziraphale asks, taking Crowley from his thoughts.    
“Yeah, just gimme a sec” Crowley responds, attempting to will away his erection, though it doesn’t do anything. After a few moments, Crowley rolls over, no longer bothered with hiding his arousal,  _ the angel will find out eventually, why not now?  _

Crowley watched Aziraphale as the angel’s eyes followed Crowley’s body turning over. He saw the way the angel’s eyes locked onto Crowley’s arousal.    
“Oh, my dear…” Aziraphale trailed off. Crowley shifted slightly, using the towel to cover himself. Aziraphale began massaging at the demon’s hands, letting his mind wander as he did. 

Before long, Aziraphale had massaged the entirety of Crowley’s body. Taking a shot of liquid courage, Aziraphale tugged the towel aside, tossing it behind him.    
“Angel?” Crowley slurred, drunk on the feeling of the angel’s hands easing the knots in his muscles.    
“Hush, Crowley, let me” Aziraphale murmured. Crowley nodded and relaxed, feeling Aziraphale’s hand easing onto Crowley’s thigh, taking the demon’s arousal into his hand. 

A rumble erupted from Crowley’s chest as Aziraphale began to tease his arousal. After a few moments, Aziraphale ducked down and took the demon’s length into his mouth.    
“Oh fuck, yes, angel please” Crowley hissed, in one breath. Aziraphale smirked as he looked up to the demon, his tongue teasing at the demon’s length.    
“C’mon angel, show me what you can do” Crowley murmured, cupping Aziraphale’s cheek. Aziraphale nodded, before he began to bob his head, teasing the demon. Reaching up, Aziraphale took the massage lotion into his hand. He squeezed some onto his hand, before reaching behind himself, all without the demon’s knowledge. 

Aziraphale teased his corporations’ prostate, just enough that he could feel himself close to coming. He shifted, tossing the massage oil bottle aside, and climbed into Crowley’s lap.    
“I suppose, I should thank you, dear” Aziraphale stated, entirely too prim and proper for someone who is so close to orgasm. Crowley watched Aziraphale, a dazed look covering the demon’s face as Aziraphale reached down, taking Crowley’s length into his hand. Crowley’s head falls against the pillow as the angel drops down onto the demon’s length. Aziraphale grinned, trailing his hand up Crowley’s chest as he began to gyrate his hips.    
“Good boy, angel, you’re so good to me” Crowley murmured. Aziraphale perked slightly at the praise, his hips jerking forward.    
“Oh, you like me telling you that you’re a good boy,  _ my good boy? _ ” Crowley smirked. He wants to reach up, to grab at the angel’s porcelain skin but Crowley doesn’t have the energy to, he’s too lethargic following the angel’s massage. 

As the angel rode him, Crowley couldn’t help but wonder how this would affect their relationship. Before he could get too lost in his own thoughts though, Aziraphale is getting higher and higher, falling into Crowley’s chest as his hips jerk more shakily and rough. Crowley knows that Aziraphale is close to coming, the demon is just as close.    
“Oh Crowley, my dear” Aziraphale moaned, his hips jerking more sporadically.    
“Oh dear, oh my, oh FUCK” Aziraphale shouted as he came, his back arching and white wings filling the room. Crowley seized the angel’s post orgasm high to trigger his own orgasm, gripping Aziraphale’s hips.    


The room was calm, though the static energy in the room was making Crowley’s hairs stand on end. Aziraphale’s wings rest limply against his skin and the bed, though Crowley knows that they’ll go back into Aziraphale’s back soon. 

“Angel” Crowley murmured, while looking down to Aziraphale. The angel is dazed, somewhere between asleep and awake.    
“Crowley” Aziraphale mumbles, attempting to sit up, though Crowley doesn’t let him.    
“Are you… okay?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded, shifting closer to Crowley while removing his wings from this plane of existence. Crowley smiles, pressing his lips to the blonde curls atop Aziraphale’s head.    
“Get some sleep angel” Crowley murmurs, pulling the angel close. He could pull out, clean them both up and pull some pants on, but Crowley doesn’t want to, he likes keeping Aziraphale plugged with his cum. 

The sun eventually rises over London, smoke plumes rising from the Church’s remains. Love can be felt all over London, emanating from an unscathed bookshop in the centre of a bombed London street. 


End file.
